


Green Heist

by narumila



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Fanart, Fluff and Humor, Gardens & Gardening, Heist, M/M, Plants, Pre-Heist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22474783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narumila/pseuds/narumila
Summary: During a visit to the botanical garden in Edinburgh Crowley bonds with a doomed water lily. Aziraphale promises him that they will liberate the plant so it can live a happy life in Crowley’s nursery. But the rescue mission ends up being more complicated than anticipated. Maybe the duo needs some reinforcements for their daring heist?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39
Collections: Good Omens Big Bang 2019





	Green Heist

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was betaed by cuckooclover  
> [Tumblr](https://cuckoo-clover.tumblr.com)  
> [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuckooclover)
> 
> Artwork was done by tinyshoopuf  
> [Tumblr](https://tinyshoopuf.tumblr.com)  
> 
> 
> Thank you both for all your hard work and making this fic way more readable (on a way too short timeframe, I can only apologize) and creating such a beautiful piece of art (with perfect draping 😂).

##  **Part I**

##  **July, Edinburgh**

“May I introduce you to Theobroma Cacao?” Crowley gestured elaborately at a low spindly tree. Its green leaves were reflecting the glaring sunlight and the pink flowers on its trunk had already begun to welt. Aziraphale wondered whether the plant was suffering as much from the heat as he was.“Yes, a cacao plant. How nice.” The angel mopped some sweat off his brow with his handkerchief.

“I don’t know why, but I would have expected a bit more enthusiasm.” Crowley tilted his head questioningly towards the angel. The demon clad in his usual all black unfairly did not show any signs of the heat getting to him. His only concession to the weather had been leaving his jacket at the B&B. His hipster sunglasses for once made him blend in with the humans, though no one else wore a single speck of black clothing. 36 degrees were not the usual temperature for Edinburgh in July and neither the locals nor the tourists were prepared for the heat wave.

“What exactly are you expecting, my dear? If it’s jumping up and down or hugging that poor thing that seems to swelter in the heat as much as I do, I’m afraid that I’m gonna disappoint you.” Aziraphale fanned himself with the park brochure. He was starting to consider where a continuous blast of arctic wind would fall on a scale of never mind up to Gabriel showing up and threatening him with discorporation.

“Never took you for a tree hugger, Angel” the demon laughed and asked, “There was an ice cream cart outside, would that perhaps improve your mood?”  
The angel’s face lit up: “Ice cream sounds like a start. Though I was wondering just how miraculous a cool breeze would be.”  
“In a glasshouse? Not exactly raising Lazarus but on the stranger side of turning water into wine, I think.” Crowley’s eyes twinkled with mischief behind the tinted glasses.  
Aziraphale could suddenly feel a soft breeze gently caressing him. He closed his eyes for a moment. With surprise, he realized that the air suddenly smelled different as well. There was a hint of the seaside and a touch of saltiness in the air replacing the cloying smell of decaying plant matter. He sighed deeply with relief.  
Crowley stood next to him watching the Angel who had finally stopped fidgeting and making faces. Aziraphale looked… serene. Just like an angel was supposed to.  
Though Crowley was fairly sure that no one, not even the Almighty herself, had expected her creation to look like this because a demon had turned on the magical air condition for him. He had to restrain himself from bursting out laughing at the absurdity of it all.  
As his gaze drifted over the plants, another species grabbed his attention.  
“Oh, look they have a Strelitzia Nicolai over there.” The excited demon tugged insistently on Aziraphale’s sleeve. The amused angel felt himself getting dragged along another row of exotic plants.  
“Oh, no. Oh, no.” Crowley’s excitement faded as an expression of concern with a hint of anger crossed his face.  
“What is it, my dear? Is there something wrong?” The angel was starting to feel as if maybe a trip to the botanical garden hadn’t been the brilliant idea he had thought it to be this morning. They had arrived only 30 minutes earlier and this was the third time that the demon’s joy and excitement had turned sour. Crowley’s ideas regarding the correct care plants needed seemed to differ ever so slightly from the opinions of the royal botanists.

“Can you see these brown spots? I mean I don’t own a Strelitzia Nicolai, but -”

‘And here it comes...’ thought Aziraphale. ‘For a demon he is a remarkably good preacher. Maybe I’ll ask Warlock or Adam if we could get him a Youtube Channel. There must be someone out there who’d love to hear his rants about plants.’

Crowley continued unaware that his audience of one had mentally tapped out: “Have you ever seen any member of the genus Strelitzia with brown spots. My Strelitzia Regina has never had any brown spots whatsoever. And I have taken care of her since 1812. Here I’ve got a picture of her on my phone” the demon took out his smartphone and after a bit of searching waved it in front of the angel’s face.”Look at her. See, how lusciously green the leaves are. And she has never had a brown spot in her life. I don’t know what these people get paid for.”  
The angel had taken the phone and obediently looked at the picture. “Oh that one’s a Strelitzia?” A short pause. “Never would have guessed that one’s a crane flower. I’ve never seen it bloom. Do they just stop after a few years?” The angel’s voice displayed pure innocence and curiosity not a hint of sarcasm or so he hoped. The demon was taken aback. “No, it never bloomed.”  
“Hmm, I wonder why.” The angel was fairly sure that the poor thing had probably been too scared to ever contemplate doing something Crowley had not explicitly permitted. ”But what do you think is wrong with this one, my dear?”  
“It definitely needs more attention.” Crowley bent down inspecting the stem and softly touched the earth. “And water. I don’t know what they’re doing here! This is a tropical plant. Tropical means thirsty.” The demon got up, looked around surreptitiously and a watering can appeared next to him. Aziraphale sighed: “There was an ice cream cart over there somewhere. I’ll get you a strawberry pop.”

Having finally finished his transactions with the ice cream vendor, Aziraphale hoped Crowley had moved on to another plant. Preferably one that did not display brown spots or - he shuddered at the thought of it - greenflies. He would not stand around in the sweltering heat and listen to a lecture about damn greenflies.  
The demon had in fact moved on to Aziraphale’s relief. The blooming strelitzia had been suddenly healed from her brown spots. Even more suspicious was the cocoon he could feel surrounding the plant, a little sphere containing moisture and air free from the city’s pollution. The Angel started to smile. Ever since that summer in Tadfield Crowley had taken to a gentler approach to plant rearing. Less fear focused and more nurturing. Aziraphale hoped that maybe in a few years even the Monstera at Crowley’s flat would finally stop shaking.

But where the devil was he now? Aziraphale decided to explore the greenhouse further before the ice cream would melt. Crowley had gone on and on about the famous Victoria Amazonica, perhaps he was at the ponds.  
The pond with the water lilies was just around the next bend but no demon in sight. Aziraphale decided running around the glass house with two melting ice creams was not in his future. Instead, he sat down on a bench amid the greenery and ate his cone. He had put the ice lolly in a little pocket of coldness amid the foliage above him assuming that any particular observant passersby would consider it a strange piece of fruit or other plant matter. As he took a closer look at the enormous water lily across him he realized that there was something amiss with the plant. It looked healthy all right, no brown spots, no signs of insect damage. There was also a little bit of a flower bud visible. A bud, not a blossom.  
Crowley had talked at length about wanting to see the water lily in bloom. Aziraphale closed his eyes. They could always come back tomorrow. He opened his eyes. Or he could apprehend his favourite demon’s disappointment and do something. As Brother Francis, he had managed a flourishing garden. Getting a single water lily to bloom a bit ahead of schedule couldn’t be that hard. At the ambassador’s garden Aziraphale usually just focused vaguely on the well-being of the plants and they seemed to flourish by themselves. This time he just wanted to influence a single plant that couldn’t be that hard now, could it?  
He decided that getting up and actually touching the plant would be the safer course of action lest he somehow influenced the rest of the greenhouse. An explosion of flowers in a single spot might draw unwanted attention. Therefore the Angel got up and crouched down on the edge of the pond. He stretched out his hand and gingerly touched one of the water lily leaves. He could feel the life vibrating through the plant. Photosynthesis was humming along fine and he detected a strong flow of nutrients from the plant's roots upwards. At least this one would not draw Crowley’s ire for the gardeners. For a moment Aziraphale hesitated as he was unsure about the best course of action. Should he speed up the plants’ biochemistry or would that just put stress on the whole plant without influencing the flower bud? Maybe if he increased the amount of sunlight the plant was getting?  
But then he decided to forgo subtlety, unwanted attention from above be damned and just willed the flower with an all encompassing miracle into blooming. The flower started to unfurl. What would in nature have taken hours proceeded under his angelic influence in mere minutes. The outer leaves unfolded gracefully and soft ripples ran along the pond. Aziraphale, whose hand still rested on the leaf, could feel the rhythm of the waves perfectly in sync with the ebb and flow of nutrients and water in the plant’s veins. After the milky white petals had unfurled in the middle of the pond a familiar hand came to rest on the angel’s shoulder. The angel looked up into a beaming smile. He had waited all day for that favourite expression of his on Crowley’s face.

Crowley had just arrived as Aziraphale had lain his hand on the water lily leaf. The puzzled demon had stood back and watched what his friend was doing. Then he could sense a wave of celestial energy directed at the pond, not the plant in the pond. To his utter surprise the water lily’s blossom started to unfurl before his very own eyes. Aziraphale had performed a miracle. Just for him. A wave of emotions washed through the demon and his hand reached out to the angel on pure instinct. A dazzling smile adorned Crowley’s face.  
“Angel. Thank you.” He lifted the crouching angel up and placed a reverent kiss on the hand that had touched the plant seconds before. “Thank you.” Another kiss. “You’re a miracle.” Kiss. “You know that?” He kissed the angel’s hand once more before he drew him into a close embrace. “Have I been much of a bother this morning?” Aziraphale nestled himself even closer into the demon’s embrace. “I knew what I signed up for, my dear.”  
As the two of them were watching the water lilies other visitors arrived. A small family outing. A man was carrying a young girl on his shoulders while pushing a younger boy in his pram. The woman that accompanied them was taking pictures of various plants that drew her eye. As the man with the kids came closer to the pond, Crowley and Aziraphale faded into the background not wanting to be noticed by the humans.

“Sweetie, how do you fancy a little adventure?” The man had parked the pram and lifted the girl from his shoulders, putting her on the rim of the water lily pond. The girl looked up at him, eyes wide with joy: “What kind of adventure, dad?” “These are water lilies from the Amazon. They’re like the big sisters to aunt Catherine’s little water lilies at home. Do you remember, when you were little you always wanted to float on one of these leaves? Like a water fairy?” “Yes, I wanted to watch the frogs and the water skippers.” “Well, these should be big enough I recon to hold you safely.” The kid’s eyes had grown wide in anticipation. “Really Daddy?” her excitement was palpable. “But Mum said I was not to touch any plant without her allowing me?” the caution had dampened her enthusiasm. “We’ll wait for Mum and ask her. And if she says yes, she can take a picture of you. And we can show Aunt Cathy.” “Yes, that would be great!” The young girl was bobbing up and down with excitement as her mother drew closer.

“Mom!” “Yes, dear, what is it?” The woman drew her young daughter close to her and gave her a peck on the cheek, “Daddy had a fabulous idea.” “Oh, did he indeed?” the woman looked suspiciously from her daughter to her husband. After a few minutes of back and forth the family came to an agreement. “Dave, you will stand right there if something happens. I do not care if you’re in the picture.”  
“Nothing’s gonna happen to her, Georgie. She can swim.” The man lowered the girl slowly onto the biggest leaf next to the pond rim. “Are you alright, love?” He still held onto the child making sure that the leaf was sturdy enough to support her weight. “It’s fine Daddy.” The young girl flashed a bright smile at her mother who hastily shot a few pictures. The girl was astonished how easily she floated. The plant underneath her hadn’t given any way at all. She could hardly feel the plant matter. But before she could begin to wonder in earnest her father had picked her up again and they moved on to another part of the greenhouse.

What the parents and their kids had not realised was what had actually happened in the time between the man letting go of the child and him lifting her up again. One of the supernatural beings was not fond of the usage of plants as mere props in an impromptu photo shoot.

Crowley could not believe his ears at first. “She’s not gonna allow him to drop their child onto a floating plant leaf?” “She doesn’t look very heavy dear. I’m sure it won’t hurt the plant.” Aziraphale was under no illusion that Crowley was concerned for the child’s safety. The idea had been her dad’s, the plant did not have somebody to save it. Except for Crowley, the newly minted guardian demon for plants. Well, Aziraphale thought, everybody needs a hobby. Crowley grabbed onto Aziraphale’s arm a little tighter. “I have an idea for a good photo.” With a swish of his hand, the grinning girl was elevated from the plant leaf into the air. She was floating almost half a metre above the plant, her eyes level with her fathers. Aziraphale snipped his fingers and time ground to a halt around them. “Really, dear?”

“What? Wouldn’t want to get the little one wet now, do you?” The angel’s look grew sterner.  
Crowley lowered the child with a lazy gesture until she was merely ten centimetres above the leaf.  
“How about this?”  
“Crowley, I don’t think that is any less suspicious than half a metre.”  
The demon rolled his eyes in a rather dramatic and obsequious manner. Aziraphale sternly looked at him: “You didn’t want that ice pop, did you?”  
Crowley waited a moment as the Angel was staring straight into his eyes until he cracked: “What sort did you get?”  
“Strawberry.”  
“Hmm. Well.” The child slowly descended until she just about hovered over the water lily leaf.  
“Are you quite finished with _swooshing_ the poor child around?”  
“If you mean if that’s the closest I’ll let her get to the defenseless poor thing, yes, I am finished. It’s not like anybody’ll notice.”

“Hm” the angel wasn’t as certain as his companion. Aziraphale walked over to where the woman was frozen in time. Her camera was trained on the girl and her finger was already pressing down on the trigger. “Sorry, Madam, don’t mind me.” She couldn’t hear him but that was no reason to be impolite. He took the camera from her and gestured for Crowley to come over. “Oh, fine, angel.” Aziraphale handed him the camera without a word. On the little screen he could see the last picture the woman had taken. It showed the young girl and the pond just as her father had intended. But instead of sitting on the big water lily leaf below her, the child was floating in mid air and a red ice lolly hung above her like a modern pop-art interpretation of an angel’s halo.  
Crowley couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing. Aziraphale resisted at first. But the demon's laughter pushed him over the edge and he joined in. “Now that would at least be a photo worth putting up on the mantelpiece.” The demon lifted his sunglasses to wipe away the tears the amusement had brought to his eyes.

“She looks like some sort of modern interpretation of a Russian-orthodox icon. Leafy greens instead of gold and a red ice pop for a crown in the time of capitalism."  
"Angel, that is way too poetic for a picture as funny as this. "  
"I'm afraid we have to delete it, otherwise those poor people will go quite mad. I couldn't bear to see them go down the route of those dreadful conspiracy theories.”  
“Yes, yes, just let me get a copy of that on my phone.”  
“What ever for, my dear?”  
“Just to look at and have a laugh? People do that you know?”  
“Yes, I’m familiar with cat videos.”  
“Who showed you that?”  
“I’m perfectly capable of using the internet, my dear.”  
“Aha, and why did I have to order that stupid book for you via amazon then?” “Because I’m not cavorting with the enemy."  
"But hanging around with a demon is perfectly fine in your books?"  
"Last I checked, my love, you were a fallen angel not some capitalist trying to push every last bookshop out of business and owning the whole world and humanity while you’re at it."  
“You are simply amazing, Angel, you know that.”  
“Well, I don’t know about that…”  
“You’d be even more amazing if I got my ice lolly now.”  
The angel gestured at the floating red object to come down and handed it over.  
“And here I thought a trip to a bloody garden would be a relaxing way to finish our trip.”  
“At least it’s not boring.”  
“Oh, I doubt it could be as long as you’re around.”  
The two stood together in companionable silence. Aziraphale had put the camera back and watched the little girl still afloat in mid air though only a few millimetres above the plant as Crowley finished his ice pop.  
_“_ Angel, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but time’s still stopped.”  
“Yes, I know.”  
“Any particular reason? I mean you could just, I don’t know, light a beacon for above and below so they’d better find us, while you’re at it?”  
“You were levitating a child in mid-air! If someone around here is drawing unwanted attention it’s clearly you among the two of us.”  
Crowley laughed, drew the angel into his arms, softly nuzzling into the crook of his neck:“Let them come. I’ll never let anybody or anything take you away from me.”

“That’s a very romantic thought, my dear. And I appreciate the sentiment behind these words very much. But would it kill you to just please stop being so bloody annoying? I don’t think I can take another lecture about those damned brown spots and those bloody amateur gardeners in this bloody heat!”  
“Oooh, I've made the angel swear.” Crowley laughed softly into Aziraphale’s ear. The angel leaned back into his demon. How did he keep his core temperature so deliciously cool. Maybe he could just cling to his demon during the rest of this heatwave. The only other immediate solution would be a leap into the murky water of the pond and he was quite sure Crowley would have something to say about that. Besides anger would only result in a rise of the demon’s temperature and that wouldn’t do anyone any good either.

With a heavy sigh he let time continue once more and the two watched as the photo session drew to a quick end. After the family had left them to their own devices, Crowley picked up the conversation again. “It’s such a pity that she only gets this one summer.”  
“Oh, I didn’t know water lilies are annual? I thought they came back in the spring.”  
“Oh, the normal ones do, Angel. It’s just that this particular species requires long hours of sunlight year round. That’s why most botanical gardens north or south of the tropics don’t bother with trying to bring them over the winter.”  
“That’s a shame.”  
“I was wondering…”  
“Yes, dear?” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley. The demon’s eyebrows were drawn together and he was worrying his lower lip. The demon was concocting a plan.  
“I’d hate to see her die so soon. Just because people can’t be bothered with her.”  
Aziraphale recognised the underlying tone. Well, displaying empathy with a plant. It was moments like these that made him wonder how Crowley had ever been mistaken for evil. Annoying, yes. Obstinate, of course. But evil? To lighten the mood he tried to distract his demon. A way forward. Something to do. Something that they could do: “What do you propose then? Swoop in at the end of the season and rescue the damsel in distress?”  
Crowley’s mood lifted instantly. His plan had worked. “I knew you’d understand. You’re my favourite angel. You know that?” Crowley pecked a little kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek. A soft smile on the angel’s lips perfectly complemented the smug grin on the demon’s.

##  **Part II**

##  **September, London**

The days had started to shorten ever so slightly and the warm summer drew to an undeniable end. At A.Z. Fell’s bookshop two figures were sitting on the couch in the backroom. They had just finished dinner and were nursing a bottle of red wine between the two of them.

“So, considering that we are both under observation for “‘abuse of celestial’ powers -”  
“Occult Powers”, Crowley interjected with a grimace.  
Aziraphale continued without missing a beat: “- and ‘Occult Powers’. How do you propose we get that colossal plant back to London?”  
“Oh, wouldn’t be the first heist I’ve pulled off” the demon said with a certain swagger in his voice while refilling his wine glass.  
“Is that so?” The angel took a sip. “Please do remind me of your successful criminal history, dear?”  
“Well, in 1967 I planned a fabulous heist-”  
“Are you perchance referring to your half-baked approach to stealing holy water?”  
"It was a highly sophisticated plan, thank you very much. I had already successfully assembled a gang of professionals for the job.”  
“You had recruited Sergeant Shadwell.” The Angel’s voice dripped with sarcasm.  
“Yes, and? Need I remind you that that connection proved to be quite useful?”  
Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Do you want to ask Madam Tracy and Shadwell for help?”  
Now Crowley sighed, exasperated. "No, I consider an angel and a demon should be enough to free a plant from a bloody botanic garden. It’s not like I want to steal the bloody crown jewels from the bloody Tower.” A short pause. “Although I’d look quite dashing with the crown.”  
“Why not the Kokoshnik tiara while we’re at it? Would suit you better than that overladen crown, my dear.” Aziraphale smiled with a glint of mischief at his demon. “If we can pull of operation _Liberandum Reginae_ without getting arrested or reprimanded from someone, maybe I’ll get you some jewels of your own.”  
The demon scooted closer to the angel and lay his arm around his shoulders. Leaning in he kissed Aziraphale on the cheek and whispered. “Now that’s an encouragement to not mess this up.”

##  **Part III**

##  **September, Anathema’s cottage**

##  **  
  
**

**Artwork by[tinyshoopuf](https://tinyshoopuf.tumblr.com)  
**

“Another cup of tea, Aziraphale?” Anathema held up the teapot invitingly. “That would be lovely, dear Anathema.” He held out his cup and watched the golden liquid pour into his cup.  
“What about you, Crowley? Anything you need?” The demon declined politely: “No, thanks. Perfectly fine.”  
“So, what brings you here? Not that I don’t like unexpected guests. But there seems to be a … how do I put this... feeling of _disagreement_? In the air?”  
“Don’t look at me.” The demon held up his hands. “It was not my idea to come here and drag you into this.”  
The witch turned her attention onto the angel on the other side of her kitchen table. “What does he not want to drag me in exactly?”  
“Well,... you see…” Aziraphale gazed into his tea cup looking for inspiration. How was he to know how to convince an innocent bystander to become part of a criminal conspiracy? He was an angel or rather had been or… Well, committing crimes was not his forte. Might as well start at the beginning.

“Have you ever been to a botanical garden?”  
Anathema blinked and kept her eyes trained on Aziraphale. “Yes. I mean I’m not exactly a herb person per se but I know my way around plants. Do you need a particular plant or something?”  
“Oh, you could say so. You could say so indeed.” The angel paused and looked down at his teacup again. After a few seconds of silence, the young woman tried to get the half hearted conversation attempt going again. “Would you like to tell me what kind of plant you need? Is it something that’s not native to Britain?”  
“No, no it’s definitely not native to Britain. As a matter of fact it’s a tropical plant. Are you familiar with water lilies?”  
Now Anathema started to look annoyed. “Yes. I know what a water lily is. They float on ponds. Looks pretty in the summer.”  
“Are you familiar with the genus Victoria Amazonica?”  
The witch’s eyebrows were drawn together and her annoyance at the angel grew visibly with every round of question and unsatisfying answer. “I assume that is a certain water lily species?”  
“Yes, indeed, indeed.” Aziraphale was still concentrating on his tea, not picking up on the rising tension. Crowley on the other side on the table had kept to himself, merely folding his arms across his chest while displaying his usual aloofness. After another few moments of uncomfortable silence the demon decided to take pity on his angel: “You see it’s a very big water lily. The leaves are about a metre in diameter and due to it being a tropical plant it needs lots of sunlight and a, yes you guessed it, tropical i.e. moist and warm environment.”  
Anathema now turned her attention to Crowley. “Okay. And what do I have to do with Amazonian water lilies?”  
“Well, you see …” Crowley trailed of unsure how proceed.  
“What do I see? Are you two fighting about building a greenhouse for a humongous water lily? I don’t do domestics. I’m not a marriage counsellor, you know?”

Now at last she had the full attention of her two evasive conversation partners. Crowley stared at her in horror with a slight blush on his cheeks, whereas Aziraphale started to laugh.  
“Oh, no, dear Anathema. Nothing as prosaic as that.” the angel shook his head. “No, space for the thing isn’t an issue.”  
Anathema looked from one ethereal being to the other. “Then would either of you be so kind and spell out what the fuck your problem is with your water lily?”  
Aziraphale sighed once more and launched into a long winded explanation of how he had promised his demon to rescue a poor water lily from certain death at the royal botanic garden in Edinburgh.

*****

“So, let me get this straight. You want my help to steal a water lily.” She paused for dramatic effect. “In Scotland. Next week.” Anathema focused on Aziraphale. “Any particular reason why you can’t just miracle it out of there? Or better yet, why can’t our dear Gardner of Doom get it done on his own?”  
Now Aziraphale blushed. “Well, you see... I got a... let’s say reprimand about superfluous and attention grabbing miracles in public.”  
“I see. And you Prince of Darkness?”

Crowley had given up on correcting her a while ago. He had assumed she’d give up at some point with the ridiculous nicknames but so far no such luck. “Something similar. Though mine had more swear words in it.”  
“You could just buy one and grow it yourself, you know?” Anathema intently watched Crowley who took off his sunglasses at her words.  
“Says the girl who goes about preaching about sustainability and respect for the environment.” Anathema raised an eyebrow at him. “Like there’s no reason at all to let her die at the end of summer! All she needs is a nice warm pond, enough sunlight or some plant lights and she’ll be perfectly fine. But no, why go through all the trouble if you can just grow a new one. They don’t care whatever happens to _her_. She put on the big summer show for all those visitors but helping her to survive over the winter, now that is just too much work. And those people call themselves botanists. Bunch of incompetent amateurs they are. ” The demon had accompanied his short rant with elaborate gestures befitting a stage actor. Anathema was taken aback. The usually laid back Crowley who projected aloofness no matter if suitable to time and place hardly ever let the facade slip. “Okay then. Let’s just say - theoretically- I agree to be a part of this hare brained scheme of yours. What’s the plan? How are we going to rescue your water lily?”  
Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged glances. Anathema looked from one to the other. “Not everybody all at once.”  
Aziraphale was the first to crack: “We kind of hoped,” the angel turned his charm up to 11 and smiled endearingly at the young woman. “That you might have an idea or two?”  
Anathema just stared at him for a moment, her mouth half-open as if she was lost for words. Then the witch started to laugh.

##  **Part IV**

##  **September, Edinburgh**

"Let's go through this one last time." Anathema looked into the van's rear-view mirror. Aziraphale piped up "I will scan the area for any employees." The next one was Madame Tracy, patting Sergeant Shadwell’s leg she said: "Thommy and I will distract any gardeners Aziraphale finds."  
"So far, so good. Pretty in Black?"  
Crowley sighed: "I will take Vicky out of her pond."  
Anathema prompted: "And?"  
The demon continued, he could not have sounded anymore bored if his existence depended on it: "I'll put her into the tank. In the wheelbarrow. That you will have stolen." "That I will have procured in service of plant liberation." "Procured then, If that makes you feel better. Then we will wheel her to the hole in the hedge. Then we will put her in the trunk and drive to the meeting place."  
"Thank you, Crowley, for that riveting summary. Any questions?"  
The group of misfits shook their heads in something that was whatever the complete opposite of perfect unison is.  
"Well, then. Everybody out and off you go. If anything goes wrong-" "Oh, I'm sure everything will work out just fine." Aziraphale sported that particularly beatific smile again that was meant to reassure the people in his vicinity and him, especially him. Anathema ignored him. "If anything goes wrong, we'll regroup at the Hotel. If someone gets arrested, call Newt, he'll get you out. Don't do something stupid. That goes for all of you." Crowley opened his mouth to interject, but Anathema shushed him. "We're getting Vicky home today; nothing else. We’re not trying to turn the whole of Edinburgh into a madhouse. We go in grab the plant,” she raised her voice for emphasis while continuing, ”in as discreet a manner as possible and get out. So, off you go!”  
After everyone but Crowley had indeed gone off, Anathema put the loaned vehicle in drive and drove to the prepared spot. Her parking space had been held clear thanks to the careful application of four orange traffic cones that had been there for the past two days. The inconspicuous hole in the hedge that surrounded the Botanic Garden had also appeared only very recently. It was astonishingly neither a work of celestial nor of occult powers. Sergeant Shadwell had been given the cones and a little garden shear while casing the joint. So far everything had gone accordingly to plan. And that was exactly what made the witch so nervous. She had expected resistance from her fellow co-conspirators, a hick-up in their preparations, something to just go wrong. But everything had gone smoothly and according to plan. The hole in the hedge had not seemed to draw unwanted attention, neither had the traffic cones. Everybody knew what to do. Or at least said so. Anathema rested her head for a moment on the steering wheel and tried to calm down. In an hour it would all be over. She just had to get on with it.

The demon watched Anathema as her head plunked down on the steering wheel. Carefully he placed a hand on her shoulder. The witch looked as if she was in dire need of reassurance and there was no one around but him to raise her spirits. “Thank you, Anathema.”

“What the -. “ she startled at the unexpected touch. “I don’t know how you persuaded me to do this”. She started to giggle. “I’m in Scotland, about to steal a humongous water lily with two supernatural entities.” “Well, would you have preferred sitting in your little cottage and baking a cake today?” Anathema scrunched up her face. “No, thank you. I think I might prefer a bit of larceny over domestic boredom anytime.” Crowley smiled reassuringly at her. “Then let’s get on with it. The sooner we’re out there, the sooner it’ll be over. We’ve survived the apocalypse, what’s the worst thing that could happen to us today, eh?”  
“I assume that was a rhetorical question, which you don’t want answered? Cause I have a whole lot of ideas-“  
He cut her off:”Strictly rhetorical, no spiralling or wisecracks needed.”

Meanwhile Madame Tracy and Shadwell had entered the botanic garden at the east gate. Newton and the angel were straggling a few paces behind them. The couple headed straight for the ticket office at the glasshouses. There they were supposed to wait for Aziraphale.

The angel took a more roundabout route. He was using his supernatural senses to get a feeling for the humans in the area. He passed a group of school kids walking past the Arboretum. Those surely wouldn’t cause any problems, he decided. The kids were very much preoccupied with trying to unsuccessfully dodge their teachers and flinging some kind of sticky gummy things at each other. If the chiding from the accompanying adults was anything to go by, the kids would be well supervised and accompanied by screaming adults.

Due to the early hour there were only few visitors around. The angel could sense an elder lady in the rose garden. A young couple was sitting in the Queen Mother’s memorial Garden pavilion. At the Aeolian Pavilion he could sense a group of art students that had started to sketch the plants. The workers were spread throughout the garden. Two were busy raking the leaves from the flower beds. Another group was cutting the roses in the rose garden. It was a pleasant morning, still quite warm for September. Aziraphale walked on further toward the tropical green houses. He was starting to ease up, he had been a bit nervous if he was completely honest with himself, but really Anathema’s plan had worked out rather splendid so far, hadn’t it? He looked for a spot where he could set up shop and make sure Anathema and Crowley could go about their business undisturbed.

While the others were busy making sure no one would disturb the extraction of Vicky, Anathema and Crowley had entered the garden from the western gate. “Okay, then. I’m gonna get us that wheelbarrow and we’ll rendezvous at the pond.” Crowley did not answer, merely gave the witch a curt nod and went straight ahead. Anathema took a path that would take her to the gardener’s area where seedlings and the more sensitive parts of the plant collection were kept, away from curious and sometimes mindless visitors. She tried to project an aura purpose and put on her very best resting ‘get out of my way, I'm busy’ face. It had worked the last time when she had taken a surreptitious look at where the botanists kept their gardening tools. The two young gardeners she had disturbed re-potting cacti had immediately snapped to attention and instead of asking what the hell she was doing in the restricted area, had demurely greeted her and let her stroll on. She hoped she’d be as lucky today.

The witch did not look around conspicuously as she opened the gate with the plaque “Staff Only”. Anathema was no amateur after all. And as luck would have it, not a soul in sight and much to her relief, at the second row of plant beds was a wheelbarrow. She grabbed the handle and manoeuvred it out of the restricted area, picking up a huge bucket along the way. That was easy. It had all been easy. At moments like this Anathema wished for Agnes’ prophecies. But at least no one in her family knew what she was up to. There were no cards left with a centuries long running commentary of her family’s opinions on her actions any more. She had to look at the bright side. And yet, she could not shake the feeling that it had all been too easy. What was she missing?

Crowley was worrying at his watch. In five minutes Anathema was due with the damn wheelbarrow. He passed by Aziraphale who gave him a cheerful nod. He sometimes wondered how the two of them had never aroused much suspicion above and below. Subterfuge had never really been the angel’s strong suit. That was why he had been put on guard duty today. Crowley had to stifle the laughter rising in his throat. The last time Aziraphale had stood guard in a garden he had contributed infamously to history or monotheistic theology at least.

Just as Crowley was about to circle the pond in the green house for the fourth time, Anathema arrived. “Finally,” he exhaled the breath he had been holding for the last minutes, oxygen being optional and all.”What took you so long?”  
The witch demonstratively looked at her watch. “We are absolutely on track, control freak. Now, give me my gloves.”  
“I thought you had the gloves?”  
“Are you kidding me?” the witch made a face.  
“Really? Who do you take me for?” the demon’s expression was turning dark quickly.  
“Someone with a very strange sense of humour?” she challenged him.  
“Here you go, so sorry, had them in my coat pocket.” a nervously smiling angel interceded before the squabble turned into a full blown fight.  
Anathema turned to him. “Weren’t you supposed to stand guard?”  
Aziraphale tried appeasing her. “There’s no one around, Madame Tracy tried to seduce one of the gardener’s as a sort of distraction I think and Shadwell got a bit worked up and well, they’re keeping everyone quite busy the next green house over.”  
“Okay, then let’s get to it. Aziraphale you hold on to the damn wheelbarrow, Crowley and I get Vicky out of the pond.”

She looked up after she had put on the unwieldy large gloves. “How did you-?” The demon had changed rather drastically. Where moments ago had stood a figure in stylish black, tight slim jeans, expensive black dressing shoes and an impeccably tailored shirt, now stood the demon Crowley in wading trousers ( though he had kept the impeccably tailored black shirt). Anathema’s brain was stuck halfway between demanding an explanation and straight up hysterical laughter at the sight in front of her. After a moment of shock, she decided on the latter.

“Excuse me, what’s so funny right now? Or have you just decided to let go of your paltry human faculties?” the demon sounded quite on edge. Anathema tried to pull herself together. “It’s just... Seeing you... Of all people like this...I mean... Aziraphale, help a girl out, will you?”  
The angel just looked from one to the other, obviously struggling to suppress his own fit of laughter and shook his head. “No, sometimes it’s best to just keep mum on a matter like this.”

“Oh for heav-, sat-, somebody’s sake!” Crowley turned away from his two companions and entered the pond. “I’ll get Vicky, if you two comedians are quite done, would you please help me get her out of here? In a somewhat timely manner?” As he strode forward he was still put out by the childish, no, infantile behaviour of his co-conspirators and so he unfortunately missed the plant root that was right in front of him down in the murky pond water. While he was composing another scathing comment he felt himself unexpectedly catapulted forward.

“Did you get that on tape? Like the whole thing?”  
“Don’t stop filming, Harry! He’s coming back up! Oh my god, and I thought this was the most boring school trip ever!”  
“Put it on TikTok, Harry! Man, you gonna get so many new followers. You gonna be famous, man!”

As Crowley resurfaced to a chorus of kids’ screams, Anathema and Aziraphale were seemingly frozen and no help at all. So, there was something worse than the embarrassment of diving headfirst into a murky pond due to your own stupidity in front of your angel and the sarcastic neighbourhood witch. He would never live that down. But a bunch of kids putting that up on the internet?  
You had to draw the line somewhere.  
The demon snapped his fingers and time and space froze around him once more. Consequences be damned, this would not stand. He started to free himself from the tangled roots, which proved to be harder than anticipated. The water frozen in time had taken on a consistency not unlike molasses.

“I don’t mean to interrupt you, but do you want some help?” Of course, Aziraphale was not bound by the restrictions of time and space either.  
“Well, oh why not, give me a hand, Angel, will you?”

After Aziraphale had helped him to disentangle himself from the water lily it was surprisingly easy to gather most of the plant and put her into her temporary home. The fact that Crowley had decided on a second and third dip underwater and the gracious use of his supernatural powers were the biggest factors. He reasoned after stopping time there wasn’t really much more he could do to draw above and below’s attention to them. Might as well make the most of his powers. At least they would be able to get out of here quicker this way.

After Vicky was safely transferred and the formerly soaking wet demon was dry again he turned his attention to the four boys.  
“So, sorry, lads. But I need to borrow your phone for a hot second.” He wrestled the phone out of the teenager’s hands and deleted the embarrassing scene. In short succession he tapped the heads of all three boys. “You have no memories of the last 20 minutes whatsoever. If anybody asks where you’ve been, you tell them you’ve been... Angel, what would be something embarrassing for boys that age?”

"Oh dear, erm, what about, you decided on revising your French vocab exercises for next week's test?" Aziraphale grabbed Crowley before he could protest. "Come on, darling, better be quick about this. Let's get out of here before someone notices."  
When the two figures with the wheelbarrow reached Anathema, Crowley stretched out his hand towards her. "What do you think you're doing?" Aziraphale's tone was as sharp as a piece of broken glass.  
"No one needs to remember the last minutes, do they?"  
"She's a friend. You don't have to do that, you know? I mean what's your plan? Do you intend to mess with my memory next?" The angel had gripped his hand and the pressure was making Crowley's arm tingle. "I... No... I wouldn't...", he was scrambling for words. "I mean she's just..."  
"Just human, yes. But she's your friend. She's our friend. She was the one who came up with this bloody plan to help you."  
The admonished demon had shrunk back. "But she's never gonna let me live that down for as long as she lives." he tried to defend himself.  
"And how long is that going to be, dear? She's in her twenties now, even taking the advances of modern medicine in account and being majorly optimistic, that's going to be what 70, 80 years at most. Are you telling me you cannot stand the odd joke at your expense for less than a century?" the angel seemed to have miraculously started to tower over the demon.  
"Okay, okay," the demon freed his hand from the vice like grip. "I'll let her be.  
"Ouch", he was shaking his arm," that really hurt, Angel. But point taken."  
"Can we step back into time then?" Aziraphale had regained his usual chipper instantly.  
"Yes, let's get out of here before someone decides to come look for us."  
Crowley snapped his fingers and time was running along just as nothing had happened. Only the three young boys found that their heads were suddenly full of French vocabulary neither of them had cared to memorise. Also, Harry's phone was lying on the floor for some reason. The boy picked it up, wiped the screen and saw that his camera app was open. Well, he might as well take a picture of his mates, something to pass the time on this school trip.

Anathema was surprised at Crowley standing in front of her. He was once again wearing his usual outfit of stylish black on black, no wading trousers to be found anywhere. And furthermore he was dry as the Sahara desert. "What happened just now? You were in the pool? You were-", she halted, "Did you do something to time again? Like in Tadfield, at the airbase?"  
"Well," the demon was squirming a bit. Perhaps she had not seen him take a plunge after all. No need to remind her then.  
"Yes, he did. A demon's biggest obstacle in life seems to be their pride." chimed Aziraphale in, ever so helpful. Crowley groaned. "Can we just get out of here? If you need to, you can laugh at me later. I'd just like to be somewhere else if that is fine with the two of you?"  
But now the witch was starting to get angry. “Then why the hell did you need me? If you can manipulate time of all things? Why get me involved?”  
“Erm, that is definitely a discussion worth having, but if we could do so anywhere else right now?”  
“Why are you in such a hurry if time is of no meaning to you after all?”

“Perhaps because the two clowns were afraid of someone of importance showing up?” The booming voice belonged to archangel Gabriel who stepped out of nowhere into being right next to Anathema.

“And who, the fuck, are you?”the witch’s voice sounded strained as if she was trying very hard not to explode with rage.  
“Aziraphale, demons are of questionable breeding but surrounding yourself with humans? Tut, tut.” Gabriel was his usual insufferable self. It was probably the factory setting he had never thought to tune to something more palatable.  
“Why don’t you just get back to whence you came from thou ethereal being?”, Crowley’s suggestion was worded very politely, his tone was not.  
Aziraphale touched his hand in a reassuring manner. “Gabriel”, he swallowed, “Such a surprise to see you here. May I introduce you to Ms. Anathema Device, witch? A most resourceful young woman and a close personal friend of mine.”  
Gabriel glanced at her and demonstratively turned his back on the witch. “Let’s get to business. I am here because someone keeps messing with time. Now, I do not care which of you two-“  
He was interrupted, quite impolitely as Aziraphale would later point out, mid-sentence by Anathema. Or rather the heavy spade in her hands. It had miraculously appeared right next to her accompanied by a surreptitious hand motion from Crowley.  
“As I’ve said, let’s get out of here.” Crowley stepped over the unconscious form of the archangel and put the wheelbarrow in motion.  
“You just-“, Aziraphale stuttered, “You just-“  
“He was being insufferable.” Anathema gave the unconscious form a kick into the ribs and followed the demon and his precious cargo to the exit. Looking back she shouted: ”You coming, Aziraphale? Don’t think I want to be around when that prick comes to.”

Aziraphale pulled himself together and was about to follow the two others when an idea sprang to mind. He crouched down low next to Gabriel. “Gabe,” his voice dripped of sugared persuasion with a subtle hint of force underlying his suggestion, “how about you decide to just leave us be? Nobody needs to care for the demon Crowley and the angel Aziraphale. Nobody knows what they can actually do together now. And nobody needs to find that out firsthand. Especially nobody from above.”  
He patted the archangel softly on the shoulder. “You will take a nice nap for another hour and you will wake up all refreshed with an urgent need for the closest restroom.” He had picked up some bad habits from Crowley after all, he had to admit.

And just like that, the angel faded out of the green house to reappear next to Anathema and Crowley who were busy putting the bucket with Vicky into the rented van. As he watched how much the two struggled, he drew a complicated symbol into the air and the water lily was sitting in a brand new water tank inside the van. “How about we go home now?” the smiling angel asked his companions. “Gabe’ll be out for another hour, but I think it would be wise not to linger here.”

##  **Part V**

##  **October, Down Souths**

“What do you think about staying here?” Aziraphale was watching the sun set among the sea. “It’s so much more quiet and peaceful here.”  
“As long as you ignore the seagulls.” Crowley smiled. “But it’s a nice change from all the bustle in London. Dunno might be nice for a while. Something different.”

“There was this little cottage the lady at the pub told me it’s for sale.”  
“Aha.” Crowley raised an eyebrow.  
“I mean we could get use it as a holiday retreat, dear couldn’t we?”  
“If that’s what you want, Angel.”

The angel beamed up at him. “It needs a bit of a do-over, but I think it would be marvellous. A little house by the sea –“  
“What do you mean a bit of a do over?” now the demon sounded slightly alarmed.  
“Oh, Sue told me it needs a bit of paint and perhaps the floors could be redone after 20 years. Nothing much.”  
“You’ve watched so much house flipping telly lately, you should know better than to believe anybody that new floors are no big deal.”  
“My dear, do you really think a little house renovation is an insurmountable barrier for the two of us?”  
“Are you trying to manipulate me into moving in with you?”  
“And if I was?”  
Crowley laughed and drew the angel into a close embrace. “You could have just asked you know.”

“That’s a yes I presume?”  
“Yes, angel.”  
“It still feels like a gift being able to do something like this after all this time.”  
“Zira, you know you’re never getting rid of me again?”  
“I sincerely hope so, my dear Crowley.”

***

“That is the cottage that needs a `bit of work`? Are you quite sure angel?” Crowley had even taken off his sun glasses to get a closer look at the house in front of them.  
“Well it does say `Thistle Cottage` on the sign.” Aziraphale took a deep breath and walked through the creaking gate. The cottage had seen better days. The thatched roof would definitely need replacing and a new chalk wash was also in order. The angel took the keys the estate agent had given him earlier and apprehensively opened the door.  
“Well, let’s take a look shall we?” Aziraphale walked into the kitchen first. The floors were made of solid hardwood he noticed and to his relief everything was perfectly clean. The cottage had been lived in and showed signs of its age but it was a well built house.  
After a few moments he noticed the conspicuous absence of Crowley. He could see the demon through the kitchen window, still standing outside and occupied with his phone. Aziraphale sighed. Perhaps the idea had been a bit hasty on his part. He shouldn’t just have sprung the idea on Crowley yesterday out of nowhere. But he had been so enamoured with the idea of a house, their house by the sea. Something of their own. Something to share. Well, he had been the one to constantly shove Crowley away for millennia. He had no right to expect the demon to give in to his every whim now. Aziraphale centred himself for a moment before heading out to the black clad figure.

Crowley was still tapping away on his phone. “Okay, Angel, I’ve found two companies that do thatched roofs in the area. So that shouldn’t be a problem.”  
“Erm, okay.” Aziraphale was stunned.  
“The estate agent said that the grounds were bigger than just the enclosed garden didn’t she? Do you think they let me build a greenhouse or does one need planning permission for that kind of thing?” Crowley had finally looked up from his phone and noticed that Aziraphale seemed a bit out of it. “Angel, what is it? I do hope you didn’t change your mind just yet?”  
“No, no, my dear. It’s just that I-“  
“Good, cause I’ve bought it.”  
“You did...? What? You haven’t even looked inside?”  
“Yeah, but you said you wanted it? So I thought I’d just...”  
“Crowley, dear.” Aziraphale drew a deep breath. “That is very kind of you-“  
“But?” The demon’s uneasiness was palpable. Had he gone too fast again? Why did he always have to ruin things?

“I want to do this together with you.” Aziraphale reached out for Crowley’s hand. The demon put his phone away and took it. “Okay?”  
“Come inside and have a look around with me, will you?” Aziraphale softly tugged and Crowley followed him.  
“The kitchen looks nice doesn’t it?”  
“Not too modern for you? There’s nothing in here that’s older than the 1990ies?”  
“Pardon me?”  
“Angel, you have hardly altered anything in the shop since Queen Victoria died.”  
“Why would I?”  
“Some people like new fangled kitchen gadgets. Like an electric kettle for example.”  
“Some barbarians use microwaves.” Aziraphale gave him a pointed look.  
“Yes, they’re useful.”  
“We’re not getting a microwave here. You’re an occult being, use your infernal powers if you need to re-heat your tea. But I draw the line at microwaves.”  
“You do realize that I use one to heat the milk for your cocoa?”  
“You do what?!?”  
Crowley laughed at the look of indignant horror crossing Aziraphale’s face.  
“Angel, trust me. I had nothing to do with inventing those things.”  
“I know. Something infernal I can handle. That’s man-made nonsense. But there was a show on the telly a few weeks ago and they basically blew up an entire house with one of those blasted things.”  
“Angel, your recent consumption of reality-TV is disconcerting. If you’re opposed to quick cocoa we’re also not having a telly in here.”  
Aziraphale started to smile. “We’re really doing this aren’t we?”

***

“What d’you think about the garden, dear?”  
“It’s a bit of a mess. Looks like nobody’s taken care of it for decades.” The demon prodded with his foot at the mess of brambles that had taken over what might have been a nice Beet in the front garden. “That will take some work to restore.”  
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow: “How do you want to do that? Put in petunias and the like?” The angel liked parks and gardens in the sense one likes to admire a green landscape, a rest for the sore eyes of city dwellers. But in all the time he spent on earth, he had never really taken an interest in the finer arts of gardening. Posturing as Brother Francis had involved very little actual gardening on his part. Indeed any new plants in the ambassador’s garden had appeared only due to Crowley’s intervention.  
“Petunias? Really?” the demon rolled his eyes.”Angel, this used to be a kitchen garden, a potager.”  
“So stuff like parsley?” Now he had the angel’s attention. “For cooking?”  
“Well, usually carrots, turnips, cabbages and so on.”  
“I don’t think we need turnips. Those things always remind me of famines.” Aziraphale shuddered. There had been many a time when Europe’s diet had consisted mainly of rutabaga and the odd potato. He had sincerely hoped to never have to see any of those stews ever again.  
“But I think some herbs would look nice, like a chequered pattern or something. And Angel, you’ll be surprised how pretty kale looks.”  
“Kale?” Aziraphale looked as if he was afraid Crowley had lost it. The demon reached for his hand and drew him closer. “How about you take care of the furnishings for the house and let me worry about the garden?”  
Aziraphale was skeptical. “Are you trying to get out of renovating the house with me?”  
“Oh I’ll help you lugging the stuff around, of course. But you are the one who’s constantly complaining about my style of interior design.”  
“There will be no exposed concrete and chrome in this cottage.”  
“Okay, but then I”; the smugness was radiating off the demon in almost tangible waves, ”get to decide how the garden will look. And where the green house goes. You know, the boring stuff.” Crowley was smiling at his angel in a suspiciously open and trustworthy manner. Aziraphale drew his eyebrows together. “I can’t seem to shake the feeling as if this works out exactly the way you intended.”  
“’Cause it very much does, my dear.” Aziraphale could feel the demon’s grin as he was softly drawn into a kiss.

##  **Part VI April, Cottage Down Souths**

“Hey there!” Anathema hollered at the two figures on the terrace. “What’s a girl got to do to get your attention? I’ve been knocking on the front door for ages!”  
“Oh, Anathema, what a nice surprise! The house warming party isn’t till tomorrow.” Aziraphale had gotten up from his lounging chair and put his book aside.  
“I know, but I thought why not make it a holiday at the seaside and then I thought might as well pop in and hand off my present before something happens to it.” The witch took a look at her surroundings. “This place looks real nice. Like a sort of picture book version of a cosy English cottage.” She cocked her head to the left. “Will you let me take a pic for my mom? She loves this style of architecture.”  
“Depends, dearie,” Crowley interjected. “You were talking about a present?” Unlike his angelic counterpart he had not gotten up at the sight of their guest. He was still sprawled out on a lounge chair.  
“Hello, Black Beauty! Only if you tell me what happens if you put on a piece of clothing that’s not black.” Anathema grinned at him challenging.  
“Depends, red clothes and red hair for example just doesn’t work for me. Black’s just always en vogue.” He grinned at her and got up. “Come here, have a seat. There’s no need to scream at each other when we have these fabulous new deck chairs.”  
“Can I get you a refreshment of sorts, Anathema? Tea, water?”  
She graciously accepted: “Thank you, Aziraphale. A glass of ice tea would be great.”  
At the mention of ice tea, the angel’s face shortly darkened but he quickly regained his composure. “I can offer you an iced early grey, but you’ll have to ruin it with sugar yourself.”  
“Sounds great.” The witch smiled at him not acknowledging the slight. After he had gone into the house Anathema turned to Crowley handing over her car keys. “Present’s in the backseat.” The demon took the keys from her and hesitated. “What happens if I open your car?”  
“It will magically open and you can get at the present on the backseat.” The witch replied all innocent smiles. With a sceptical “Aha” Crowley got up and headed for her car. Never let it be said he backed down from a witch’s challenge.

He did not trust Anathema. With good reason. Crowley and the witch had engaged in a good natured competition for almost a year now. Both of them had produced marvellous pranks. And some that fell just plain flat. He chuckled as he thought about the one time he had managed to pull off a prank with a levitating cake that had ended up mostly on Anathema’s face. Though one would have to admit that the witch’s success rate so far was more consistent than Crowley’s. Though she usually relied heavily on Adam’s ingenuity and the help of the Them. One time they had in fact managed to capture Crowley with what Adam referred to as ‘a good old-fashioned tiger pit’.

So he approached the car rather apprehensively and took a good look around before carefully inserting the car keys. Crowley had decided on trying the driver’s side reasoning that Anathema had at least gotten out of there without incident. As nothing happened he turned the keys. Still, nothing. He opened the door. On the backseat was a fairly large basket with a dark piece of cloth draped over. That had to be it. Crowley closed his eyes and turned his supernatural senses on the basket. He could feel something ... alive? in there. It was definitely asleep but he could feel the sharp edges of a predator’s mind. With a smile on his lips he reached for the basket and made his way back to the terrace.

The demon put the basket on the table where Anathema was busy with pouring mounds of sugar in the glass Aziraphale had gotten for her. “You should try it, you know. Considering your love for pastry and chocolate I’m really surprised you say you don’t like it.”  
“Young lady, I believe I’ve been around long enough to now a vile concoction of human fever dreams when I see one.” Anathema turned to the man shaped being in black. “Tell me how much sugar does he put in his coffee?”  
Crowley laughed. “In the morning it’s usually three cubes.”  
“How is that any different from putting sugar in tea?” she challenged the angel. Aziraphale was about to answer when -

“RAWR!” a disturbingly loud roar came from the wicker basket disrupting the disagreement about sweetened beverages. Aziraphale’s head swivelled around: “Pray what’s in there Crowley?” He shot an accusatory look at the demon. “Ask Anathema, I just got it from her car like I was told.” “’Cause you always do what you’re told.” Anathema burst into laughter. Itold him to get the present I had for the both of you.” She drew back the piece of cloth and surprise washed over her face. In the basket was an adorable little dragon scales and all. It even puffed a few smoke rings as it started to stretch out its wings and limbs.  
“Anathema?” Aziraphale asked. “You got us a... dragon?” His tone riddled with incredulity.

“Erm, actually...” she broke off. “I got you a kitten. She definitely had neither wings nor scales when I put her in the basket.” Anathema quickly regained her composure and turned to the smirking Crowley. “Is that an illusion you just cast? Or is that a real dragon?” She stretched out her hand as if to touch the creature but thought better of it. “Go on, it’s quite real, you can touch her. It’s a transformation of sorts. But underneath the scales she’s still a cat so be careful.” Anathema reached out once more. She could feel the scales. They were completely dry like snakeskin but warmer to the touch. As she petted the dragon creature behind the ear it started to purr and little puffs of smoke escaped its mouth.

All the while Aziraphale’s expression had turned from shock to exasperation. The witch and the demon had engaged in this come-upmanship ever since they had become friends. At least this time there were no cakes being thrown around. “If we’re quite done with magic tricks, would you mind turning the cat back into its old form. It must be quite confusing for the poor thing and I don’t want it to burn down the cottage just yet.”  
“Spoilsport.” with a grimace Crowley gestured at the creature and it turned back into a calico kitten that rubbed against Anathema’s hand.

\----

“You’ve really outdone yourselves with the green house, you know? It’s so ... so green, like I imagine a jungle somewhere in the tropics. It feels so much more natural than in Edinburgh.”  
“Thank you”, Crowley was a bit taken aback. He had not expected Anathema to be so complimentary.  
“Especially Vicky’s pond. Doesn’t look like those dreadful things you see in garden centres with all the plastic bowls.”  
Crowley laughed. “Dear, but that’s exactly what’s underneath it. You can’t just pour water on the ground and hope it stays where you want your pond to be.”  
“Not even for someone like you?”  
“Do you have any idea how much concentration and effort that would require? You’d basically be holding some 300 litres of water at every bloody moment. No, way easier to just put in a pond structure.”  
They stood for a moment in silence. “How did you get her over the winter? In here? I assume your heating bill’s through the roof?”  
“No, we just moved her in here a few weeks ago. She might have spent winter in an extradimensional pocket where time doesn’t exist.”  
“Aha.” She shot him an amused look. So no supernatural ponds, but extradimensional pockets were just fine. Perhaps that was the solution for her storage problems at the cottage. Her kitchen cabinets would definitely benefit from some extra space.  
“Well it was easier than putting a pond in my apartment in Mayfair.” he sounded a bit defensive.  
“If you say so.” she grinned at him. “What you think about the cat? I assumed you two didn’t need any new pots and pans or the other traditional house warming gifts. But if you two don’t get along with her I’ll take her back to Tadfield. I just thought...”  
“Oh, I quite like cats and Zira’s never met something cute and forlorn he wouldn’t take in. It’ll probably be easier to rear than the Antichrist or some spoiled American brat.”  
“Yeah, one would hope so.” Anathema who actually had had cats throughout her life was not quite as sure as Crowley but who was she to question a demon’s infinite, well wisdom wouldn’t be it, maybe prudence or better yet life experience. He had definitely lived long enough to achieve a whole lot of that.  
“Shall we go back or do you want to hear a lecture about the formidable plant lights I had put in here?”  
“Actually I was wondering...” she shook her head. He would never agree to that. Not after all the fuss he had made about her.  
“Yes?” he was waiting for her to continue.  
“I’ve seen pictures of kids balancing on these huge water lily leaves. But I assume I’m too heavy for that, am I?” she looked at Crowley. “I’d probably just fall into the water.”  
“I’m afraid my dear you would.” he had to stifle a burst of laughter. “And I have to say” he added, “ I don’t want to accidentally drown a witch in my new greenhouse.” Seeing her disappointment he paused for a moment. “But, instead of treading on poor Vicky and plunging in the pool, I can let you levitate above her if you want a closer look."  
“Oh, can you do that? Really? “  
He looked a bit disgruntled at her incredulity. Of course he could, he was an occult being after all. “Sure I can.”  
Anathema beamed at him with excitement. “Would you take a picture of me? I mean of me and Vicky?” He sighed. Humans and their obsession with pictures. “Give me your phone.” he demanded.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Green Heist](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052219) by [semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperfiona/pseuds/semperfiona_podfic)




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